Last Resort
by BrokenOcean
Summary: Disregards season nine. It's been a couple weeks since the angels fell and Castiel isn't doing so well. He hasn't managed to meet up with Sam and Dean, and he hasn't had any luck with helping his fallen brothers and sisters. He's running low on ideas and hope, and he hasn't forgotten that he should've stayed in Purgatory. (background: Sam didn't require an angel to heal him)


Cas buried the box in the dirt. He'd seen humans do this time and again. While he'd understood what had driven them to do something so drastic, he'd never fully been able to empathize with them on this, though he'd tried.

But now…well…here he was.

He looked down one road, then the other. Nothing. No one. He clenched his fists. A horrible weight settled in his throat. Had he done it wrong? He went over the ritual in his head. No. He'd remembered everything. He looked around again. He shook his head and sighed. He bent to uncover his box.

"Change your mind so quickly?"

He shot up and faced the woman who'd appeared behind him, slipping into the second nature defensive stance so quickly it took him a moment to realize how foolish it was. He'd summoned this demon after all. "I didn't think it worked."

"Well, with your track record, that a pretty good assumption. But in this case you managed not to make too big a mess."

Cas swallowed his retort. "Can we just…can we…"

The demon tilted her head and grinned. This was too good. The former angel couldn't even _say_ it. God, but she was going to be the talk of Hell when she sealed this. "Come on then, wingless. What do you want?"

Cas looked up and away. "I um…I've made a lot of mistakes and I – "

"Mistakes? Oh I know. _Everyone_ knows, Castiel. Heaven's war? We heard. We cheered. We thrived. Becoming God? And you said _our_ plan was a bad one. Leviathans? Need I say more? And now? Heaven's a little emptier, last I heard."

Cas grit his teeth and glared down into the dirt, every inch of his being screaming at him to destroy this abomination, but he couldn't. He needed to do this. "I need to redeem myself. I need…I need to save my brothers and sisters. But after all I've done, there isn't much that I can do that doesn't appear like past actions."

She looked at him. "You want to clean slate it? Sorry, tree-topper, we don't do time travel. That's more your department. You'll need to think of something else."

"No I – I don't want to go back. Such heavy sins aren't erased so easily. But I need to do something. I want them to be looked after. Just make sure that all the fallen angels have the things they need to survive this world. Money, shelter…vessels…"

"And if they refuse?"

"…Just make it available. Don't tell them where it's from."

The demon and former angel studied each other. "Why?"

Cas's face hardened. "My reasons are irrelevant to you."

That tugged a laugh from the other. "Your mind is as open to me as a human's was to you a few months ago. But I don't care about why you want to help the grounded angels. I want to know why you want to deal. Why do you _want_ to go to Hell? If you really feel so bad, you could just kill yourself. Contrary to popular belief, you don't go to Hell for that. But you knew that. So…why?"

Cas scanned their surroundings. "If I kill myself and my soul is not damned," he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and she inclined her head, "then my soul will go to Heaven. My death won't serve any purpose and Metatron will probably just send me back anyway. He wants his story."

She gave a moment's pause, then shrugged, "Alright. Offered assistance to the clipped angels in exchange for your newly given soul. Ten years is the standar – "

"Wait."

She cocked a brow. "You're not backing out."

"No." Cas stepped closer to her, his disregard for personal space once again becoming apparent. "But there's something else I want."

"You're getting awfully grabby. The human condition didn't take long to set in, did it?"

"I want you to stay away from the Winchesters." His eyes held hers unflinchingly, "No demon will touch them. No demon will hurt them. No demon will even approach them."

She stared back, nothing but amusement showing in her blood-like eyes. "You're way over stepping there little _human_."

He didn't move. "I'm not overstepping anything. You said you know of me. So you know what I'm worth to Crowley. What he'd give to have me at his mercy. This deal could mean a lot for you."

She leaned back and looked him over. "Alright. Offered assistance to the angels. And I'll tell my co-workers to give the boys some distance. No unnecessary taunting. No getting too close. No possessing the humans they care about."

"That's not good enough. The –"

"That's the most I can do in regards to the Winchesters. Face it. They're high priority targets and high risk because they _make_ themselves that way. I have no control over what they do. And I'm certainly not in any position to tell other demons to just roll over for them because some pretty boy asked me nicely. And you _didn't_ even ask me nicely."

"And I told you that wasn't good enough. Who do you think Crowley wants more? Them or me?" The fact that she considered this confirmed that she didn't know that the Winchesters currently held Crowley hostage in that old church, which might tip the scale. Castiel was very careful to keep that from his mind. "Keep the demons away from Sam and Dean."

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, looking away. Cas waited for her answer and did his best to hide his nerves. The hand tremors humans had to contend with when frightened hadn't spared him, but he'd managed to keep it from her notice. Despite what he said, and the fact that he truly believed he deserved to be punished for all the strife he'd caused, the truth was that he didn't _actually_ want to go to Hell. He'd seen what the souls were put through, knew what Dean had persevered through – saw the condition he was in when Castiel Saved him – and Cas feared that he wouldn't last long on the rack.

At last she sighed and broke into his thoughts, "I can't make the demons steer clear of the Winchesters. Your boyfriend and his brother are too unpredictable. But…"

Cas waited. He had to get this right. He couldn't let his friends down. Not again. Not after everything he'd done to them.

"There's a sigil I can give them. It'll have a similar effect as that spell your prophet found. I'll take a leaf from your book and carve it into them. Under their anti-possession tattoos perhaps? But it won't be self-activating. Most sigils, as you know, are activated by blood. But because they'll be in constant contact with blood, that won't work for the ones I'll give them – "

"Why not?"

She smirked, "Because, Cassie. I said so. They'll be activated instead," she went on before he could cut her off again, "by a word. They just need to say it and the demon smokes out."

Cas waited for her to go on before huffing, "The word?"

Her smirk twisted into a full blown Cheshire grin, "Christo."

He had an understanding of irony, but wasn't sure he enjoyed entertaining it in these kinds of scenarios. "Alright. Those terms for ten years in exchange for my soul."

"Wrong again. You've been grounded, so clear all that air from your head already. You don't actually have the upper hand here. As you've seen fit to point out; Crowley wants you. And he wants you bad. You think he's gonna wait ten years for you when he can have you now?"

Cas swallowed. He wasn't sure what to say. "But contracts – "

"Contracts are often ten years, but they don't have to be as you well know. Dean Winchester got one year, though you cut his exchange short. John Winchester only got a few minutes. The time is what I say it is. I'll give you six months."

Cas worked his throat. Squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. As an angel, he hadn't been overly afraid of dying because all that was in store for him was non-existence. But now he was facing an eternity in Hell. Still…"Fine. Deal."

The demon came forward and pressed her mouth to his. When she let him go he said nothing, but turned and began to walk away, mentally reminding his body that bile was supposed to stay _inside_ his stomach. He didn't get far down the road before she called out to him. "Oh, Castiel. Before you go…"

He didn't stop, didn't turn, but could hear her just fine regardless of the fact that she should have been getting quieter with every step he took.

"Those sigils? They're useless unless your boys know how to activate them, so you're going to have to give them the run down. They didn't feel the sigils being carved into them so it might take a little convincing."

At last he stopped. Castiel didn't move even after she'd vanished. Unsure how to proceed, he was rooted to the spot. For some stupid reason, it had never occurred to him how the Winchester brothers would react to what he'd done. He knew that they'd be displeased – _angry_ – with him for doing such a thing. Already the heavy weight of regret rolled in his gut and he wondered if he'd been too hasty in his desperation to fix things. What to do? He couldn't not tell them. But he was afraid of what they'd say. Perhaps he could somehow explain the sigils without revealing the deal he'd made? That was almost laughable.

He blinked and was on a different street. He heard a whispered "In case you were wondering when to break the news…" and a smoky laugh. Then there was an engine coming up behind him, and tires squealing as headlights lit up the dark road in front of him. A beat. Two. Then a car door opened and slammed shut again. "Cas?" A hushed "No Sammy, stay in the car dammit! Cas, that you? What the hell happened?"

Castiel dropped to the ground and didn't realize that he was gulping in air faster than his body could put it to use. He heard hurried footsteps coming toward him, but he still didn't turn. He brought a hand to his face partly to hide the shame that slipped from his eyes and down his cheeks, and partly because for the first time in almost five years, he didn't want to see Dean Winchester.


End file.
